Holding Hans - Tara Lain

Chapter One

Hans Meyer bounced his leg and stared at the side door of the high school—again. Where is he?

The sound of an engine behind him on the field made him look, and he smiled at the guy on the riding mower. Pretty. Really pretty. What was his name? Hans had heard it before. Everyone in Ever After knew the names of most everyone else in Ever After. Small towns were like that. But this guy hadn’t been there that long, and he was kind of a cipher. A mystery. Rune. That was it. The name. Rune. A mystical or magical symbol.

Hans shifted on the bench he occupied, glanced at the still-shut door of the school, shoved his glasses up his nose, and gazed back toward Rune. I think he’s pretty. I think, therefore I’m gay. He snorted. Maybe one didn’t inherently follow the other, but in Hans’s case—yeah. Gay. I prefer men, or at least I’m attracted to them physically. He’d noticed that about himself during the two years he’d gone to the public high school. Of course, he’d never had a date or been kissed by someone of either sex. Who’d date Hans? But his gaze had always seemed to follow attractive boys more than girls, and he’d chalked it onto his list of Interesting Facts About Hans. Greta, his twin, had also remarked on it. “Have you considered you may be homosexual,” she’d asked him one night.

“Yes, I’ve thought of it. What do you think?”

She’d shrugged and pointed to the photos on his bedroom wall.

He remembered frowning. “They’re musicians.”

“I’ve never known anyone else who had a photo of Brahms without a beard or of Berstein shirtless.”

“Umm. You have a point.”

One more tick on the gay column and—Hans sucked in air.

Rune had stopped the riding mower and was staring back at Hans. Their gazes actually connected, which made Hans want to run. But in which direction? He swallowed hard. Funny how he’d been pretty casual about advising his best friend, Red, when Red thought he might be gay. About himself? Not as casual.

Rune actually stepped off the mower. Every cell in Hans’s body got very still. Yes, do it. Come over and talk to me or something— Oh shit. What am I saying? He felt himself stand, like another power was in charge of his body. Yes, and he had a pretty good idea that the one in charge was the member of the team that was growing and expanding as he stood there staring at Rune’s glass-cut cheekbones and shaggy hair.

A woman’s laugh sounded behind him. He froze and, across the grass, Rune did too. His gaze moved from laser-focused on Hans’s face, toward the door of the school.

A man’s voice joined the woman’s.

Oh no, not now. Not right this second. Still, Hans slowly turned his head.

The side door to the school stood open and Hans’s father held it for a woman. She was small, dark, and kind of pretty in a sharp way. Even from that distance, the sound of her voice carried. “Oh, Rudolf, you’re so delightful.”

Interesting. That wasn’t an adjective applied to his father frequently. It was nice that someone saw those qualities in him.

Since his father seemed totally enraptured by the woman, Hans turned back to Rune—and sighed. He’d thrown his leg back over the mower and, at that moment, started the noisy thing again. His long legs stretched out to the sides like some cowboy on a small mechanical horse, and the position stretched the worn denim of his jeans tight over the long muscles of his thighs.

The breath emerged from Hans’s tight lungs in a woosh. Oh yes, definitely gay.

Rune cocked his head. Maybe, just maybe, he gave a smile that might have been disappointed, and then he mowed off.

Just as well. Even staring at Rune didn’t make Hans forget the hospital bill. If they didn’t get over to the bank before the finance office closed, his father could wind up having his wages garnished. That would be the end of food.

Rune Christopher copped a quick look back across the expanse of new-mown lawn at the guy. Odd duck—but cute as hell. True, some people wouldn’t think so. He was medium height, skinny, wore baggy clothes and glasses, and seemed to have forgotten to cut his hair in a long time. But there was something about him—an intensity, a focus, that if translated into action suggested it could be formidable and sexy as hell.

The kid had shown up at the school occasionally to